


Reaching For A Setting Sun

by UWORU



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, peer pressured by discord into posting this? maybe, piss and shid idk how to tag things, this is unnecessarily sad and i apologise for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UWORU/pseuds/UWORU
Summary: I wanted to believe I could make a difference, even if only for a moment, even if only in a faraway dream.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Reaching For A Setting Sun

The sound of rain hitting hardwood became dull and quiet as the night carried on. 

Seconds came and slipped away, with no concern over who or what had been left behind. The same could be said for days and months, even years and decades, but time is slow when you want it to pass, and leaves quickly when you wish it stayed.

And when you’re faced with a night where hope flickers like a dying flame, time seems to move on without you, while you’re still unable to take a step forward.

Then the question comes once again, should you? Do you deserve to? Will time bury what was witnessed by the moon and anything past the darkness of the forest that was filled with smoke?

When life is lived without rules nor consequences, it’s so easy to forget what makes us human. Empathy, love, even the most basic of rationality is drowned by the fear that resides in all of us.

In the end, life goes on for those who haven’t been pushed over the edge of no return. There’s nothing you can do about it. Not anymore.

Waking up from a dream, loving and being loved, these are all privileges lost in the haze to disappear forever, leaving only a bitter taste long after departure. Such is the fate of those who cross paths with the darkness of what lies beyond the horizon, no matter how briefly.

The disarrayed rhythm of steps on tile are disrupted now and then by the remainders of a storm. What lies on the other side is silent acceptance of avoidance being the final solution.

Isn’t it odd, how only a few steps can become the distance between heaven and earth? How that distance pulls apart the air within, reforming it into a staircase so steep it’s impossible to walk upon without a fear of certain death?

Yet there are those who choose to take that path, whether to reach the other side or to escape this one is for you to decide.

Nothing reaches beyond the gates and nothing lies beyond the garden behind them. A mist rests upon the land of dreams, lulling its residents into an eternal slumber.

Seeking peace in a forsaken world, finding joy in the final dawn. Recite it over and over, yet tomorrow still comes. Another day passes, the black of night seeping through the cracks and back into your heart.

“Thank you for helping me reach my happiness,” and “I’m sorry I’m a failure.” Turning to foam, the sincerity in those words melt into nothing, shoveled over with fresh dirt to leave its carrier with a tainted gift of hatred and grief.

It’s all your fault, isn’t it? Unable to save anything you care for, to stop it from flowing through your fingers and into the damp soil. Misfortune flows from your mouth and corrodes even the clearest skies, reducing them into nothing but a lifeless glaze over the world you are forced to live in.

And when the night lifts its curse, the pain is seemingly washed away. If, let’s say, you returned after a year, even what has been hidden beneath will have gone.

But you are well aware of that feeling, the knowledge of the dirt still under your nails, the remaining warmth of your future slipping away to be one with the stars.

You feel it every day, yet you are still cold. Empty, draining your surroundings of the fulfilment it should be, could have been.

You yearn for a salvation that you yourself have ruined, that will never come.

But you continue to pray for a miracle, for the light of day, because without it, you are nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> gamer time


End file.
